One Hundred or Bust
by Jaganashi
Summary: A collection of 100 shortfics, prose, and or poetry centered around Donatello and Michaelangelo. Some portray them as a pairing, while others are merely brotherly love. Pairing additions will be clearly labeled as such.
1. Chapter 1

**One-Hundred or Bust**

I am participating in a fanfiction challenge to write 100 short-fics, prose, and/or poetry around Donatello and Michaelangelo, each based around one of the 100 prompts provided. Both characters must be in each addition (or at least implied/mentioned), but by my discretion, some will portray them as a pairing whereas others will be simple brotherly love. I will clearly label each type at the top of the page, for those who wish to be "warned." Brotherly means just that, and Turtlecest will indicate a romantic pairing.

I hope to never substitute quality for quantity, so this will be a fun writing exercise. There will be less than a hundred chapters posted here, because some will admittedly be restricted to NC-17 hosts. As most of us know, this site does not allow that rating, and it shall therefore not be posted here.

Title: Where Do We Go From Here?

Prompt: 078 Where

Rating: G

Summary: Mike and Don reflect on where their lives are headed.

Author's Notes: Not necessary to know, but while writing this, I had the many stories of the comics in mind as their possible future.

-Brotherly-

**Where Do We Go From Here?**

The room was quiet and the bed was warm. Beneath the covers, snuggled two brothers. At that confusing, in-between age of eighteen, Michaelangelo would still find himself in Don's bed when he needed comfort, reassurance, or just a welcoming body to cuddle in the dark.

"Hey, Don."

The bed shifted a bit on Mike's left as the older turtle made himself more comfortable. "Hmm?"

Mike's head was nestled in his hands as he stared at the ceiling. It was one of those moments of peace, where two brothers could talk and ponder and not have to think twice about their words. "You think a lot. Where do you think that our life is headed?"

Donatello was silent, and Mike could almost hear the blinking noises that those super-computers make when they're computing data. Raph's thoughts sounded like stone wheels grinding, that generally picked up speed as they went. Leo's contemplations were silent, as if his ninja training stretched all the way to his thought process. It was like holding your breath, in that no noise escaped, yet you still knew that something was happening. So, Mike associated his brother's thoughts with sounds- that didn't make him odd, did it?

"I'm not sure how you want me to answer that."

Mike was bombarded by the mental image of a huge computer spilling out a sheet of blank paper while indicating, "Does not compute. Does not compute." The fact that Don made no comment about the other's snickering was a sign that random laughter was common-place with the orange-banded turtle. After Michaelangelo's amusement subsided, his tone became more solemn. "Well, thirteen years ago, our life was me, you, Leo, Raph, and Master Splinter. That was it, you know? No outside world, no humans." He paused. "Well, I mean, as anything more than just Master Splinter's descriptions and reasons why we should never wander away."

Don remained silent, but it was companionable. Many nights had been spent like this, talking and reflecting; sharing thoughts and opinions that daylight hours would scoff at. Mike continued, his words falling freely without thought. "Then Four years ago, our life was still just me, you, Leo, Raph, and Splinter. I mean, we knew all about humans from television, and comic books." He quickly added, "Sometimes we would see some at a distance too, when were out for a dumpster-dive or food-run with Master Splinter. Leaving the group or actually getting close to anyone was still a _big _no-no. Like, an Apocalyptic, no turning back, oopsie of doom."

The younger turtle took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Now..." He made a gesture with his hand in the dark. "Now we go topside without Master Splinter. _Shell_, we top topside completely by ourselves sometimes. We actually have friends for the first time, after fifteen years of our world being ...just us, you know?" Mike was grinning, his teeth gleaming just slightly in the near-dark. "We have friends and enemies and people who don't stay conscious long enough to be anything to us."

The orange-banded turtle feared that he was getting off track, so he recapped with a sigh. "Our world was so small that it was really just our first home that we had spent our entire lives in, the surrounding tunnels, and a few late night excursions to the surface." His attempt at a recap, however, became moot as a smile graced his features and he began to reminisce. "Remember when we used to fight over who's turn it was to go topside? One of his punishments was to take away topside privileges for a month. So when everyone else got to go on a dumpster-dive or food-run, the one little turtle -who was almost always either me or Raph- had to stay home and miss out."

An abrupt laugh escaped him, and he brought both arms up to gesture along with his words. "Nowadays...going to the dump? Not a problem. Going across town to our human friend's apartment? Not a problem." His enthusiasm increased with each world, his voice becoming animated. "Going out to a freakin' farmhouse? Hey,_ not a problem_. Going to an alien world?" He made a scoffing noise, "Why not?"

"Going to _another dimension or time_?" Michaelangelo made a sound that was more air leaving his lungs than real laughter. "Been a few times, thanks."

Silence fell upon them once again, giving Mike the opportunity to finish his thoughts. After a short few moments, he concluded, "So that just makes you wonder. If this is where our life has brought us, then what else is left? How much further are we going to go?"

Don continued to stare at the ceiling himself, perhaps sharing the same point of unfocus as his brother. "We could die."

Mike spared the other turtle a glare in the darkness. His tone was both serious, and a warning. "That's not funny."

The bed shifted just slightly, and Mike guessed that Don was giving his patented non-committal shrug of the shoulders. When the older turtle spoke, his voice was soft and matter-of-fact. "You're asking a question of slopes and growth. More often than not, when a point reaches a destination that it can no longer exceed, it either plateaus or plummets. Simple physics and mathematics."

Mike frowned at the empty air above him. "Let's hope we plateau."

Don smiled, clearly unfinished with his input to the conversation. "Or that the growth will exceed the previously established borders." He didn't allow time for the silence that he knew would follow. "As far as where we're going, we seem to be thinking one dimensionally here; the places we go, and the people we meet." His voice grew excited, like a kid showing off his prized science project. "Would any growth not push us beyond what we already know?" His enthusiasm increased with each new thought. "There may be things in the future for us in the terms of spirituality, of love and loss and depth. Experiences that shake us to the core, that enlighten us to things that we had never even considered."

Don turned his head so that he could make out his brother's sillouhuette. "What if we find out things that philosophers and scholars have spent their lifetimes searching for? What if we see things that change our views of life, and our preconceived notions of reality?" He let out a breath, his voiced hushed and thrilled at the same time. "What if there's more, Mike? Imagine what may be ahead of us..."

Mike gave a sigh, allowing it all to sink in. "This is deep, Don."

The other inhaled slowly and let it out with a small smile. "Yeah..."

"Wanna see if there's any leftover pizza in the fridge?"

Don's voice was still soft and thoughtful. "Leftovers..."


	2. Chapter 2

Rating: PG

Summary: Don and Mike contemplate where their lives are headed

Brotherly or implied.

**Where Do We Go From Here?**

The room was quiet and the bed was warm. Beneath the covers, snuggled two brothers. At that confusing, in-between age of eighteen, Michaelangelo would still find himself in Don's bed when he needed comfort, reassurance, or just a welcoming body to cuddle in the dark.

"Hey, Don."

The bed shifted a bit on Mike's left as the older turtle made himself more comfortable. "Hmm?"

Mike's head was nestled in his hands as he stared at the ceiling. It was one of those moments of peace, where two brothers could talk and ponder and not have to think twice about their words. "You think a lot. Where do you think that our life is headed?"

Donatello was silent, and Mike could almost hear the blinking noises that those super-computers make when they're computing data. Raph's thoughts sounded like stone wheels grinding, that generally picked up speed as they went. Leo's contemplations were silent, as if his ninja training stretched all the way to his thought process. It was like holding your breath, in that no noise escaped, yet you still knew that something was happening. So, Mike associated his brother's thoughts with sounds- that didn't make him odd, did it?

"I'm not sure how you want me to answer that."

Mike was bombarded by the mental image of a huge computer spilling out a sheet of blank paper while indicating, "Does not compute. Does not compute." The fact that Don made no comment about the other's snickering was a sign that random laughter was common-place with the orange-banded turtle. After Michaelangelo's amusement subsided, his tone became more solemn. "Well, thirteen years ago, our life was me, you, Leo, Raph, and Master Splinter. That was it, you know? No outside world, no humans." He paused. "Well, I mean, as anything more than just Master Splinter's descriptions and reasons why we should never wander away."

Don remained silent, but it was companionable. Many nights had been spent like this, talking and reflecting; sharing thoughts and opinions that daylight hours would scoff at. Mike continued, his words falling freely without thought. "Then Four years ago, our life was still just me, you, Leo, Raph, and Splinter. I mean, we knew all about humans from television, and comic books." He quickly added, "Sometimes we would see some at a distance too, when were out for a dumpster-dive or food-run with Master Splinter. Leaving the group or actually getting close to anyone was still a _big _no-no. Like, an Apocalyptic, no turning back, oopsie of doom."

The younger turtle took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Now..." He made a gesture with his hand in the dark. "Now we go topside without Master Splinter. _Shell_, we top topside completely by ourselves sometimes. We actually have friends for the first time, after fifteen years of our world being ...just us, you know?" Mike was grinning, his teeth gleaming just slightly in the near-dark. "We have friends and enemies and people who don't stay conscious long enough to be anything to us."

The orange-banded turtle feared that he was getting off track, so he recapped with a sigh. "Our world was so small that it was really just our first home that we had spent our entire lives in, the surrounding tunnels, and a few late night excursions to the surface." His attempt at a recap, however, became moot as a smile graced his features and he began to reminisce. "Remember when we used to fight over who's turn it was to go topside? One of his punishments was to take away topside privileges for a month. So when everyone else got to go on a dumpster-dive or food-run, the one little turtle -who was almost always either me or Raph- had to stay home and miss out."

An abrupt laugh escaped him, and he brought both arms up to gesture along with his words. "Nowadays...going to the dump? Not a problem. Going across town to our human friend's apartment? Not a problem." His enthusiasm increased with each world, his voice becoming animated. "Going out to a freakin' farmhouse? Hey,_ not a problem_. Going to an alien world?" He made a scoffing noise, "Why not?"

"Going to _another dimension or time_?" Michaelangelo made a sound that was more air leaving his lungs than real laughter. "Been a few times, thanks."

Silence fell upon them once again, giving Mike the opportunity to finish his thoughts. After a short few moments, he concluded, "So that just makes you wonder. If this is where our life has brought us, then what else is left? How much further are we going to go?"

Don continued to stare at the ceiling himself, perhaps sharing the same point of unfocus as his brother. "We could die."

Mike spared the other turtle a glare in the darkness. His tone was both serious, and a warning. "That's not funny."

The bed shifted just slightly, and Mike guessed that Don was giving his patented non-committal shrug of the shoulders. When the older turtle spoke, his voice was soft and matter-of-fact. "You're asking a question of slopes and growth. More often than not, when a point reaches a destination that it can no longer exceed, it either plateaus or plummets. Simple physics and mathematics."

Mike frowned at the empty air above him. "Let's hope we plateau."

Don smiled, clearly unfinished with his input to the conversation. "Or that the growth will exceed the previously established borders." He didn't allow time for the silence that he knew would follow. "As far as where we're going, we seem to be thinking one dimensionally here; the places we go, and the people we meet." His voice grew excited, like a kid showing off his prized science project. "Would any growth not push us beyond what we already know?" His enthusiasm increased with each new thought. "There may be things in the future for us in the terms of spirituality, of love and loss and depth. Experiences that shake us to the core, that enlighten us to things that we had never even considered."

Don turned his head so that he could make out his brother's sillouhuette. "What if we find out things that philosophers and scholars have spent their lifetimes searching for? What if we see things that change our views of life, and our preconceived notions of reality?" He let out a breath, his voiced hushed and thrilled at the same time. "What if there's more, Mike? Imagine what may be ahead of us..."

Mike gave a sigh, allowing it all to sink in. "This is deep, Don."

The other inhaled slowly and let it out with a small smile. "Yeah..."

"Wanna see if there's any leftover pizza in the fridge?"

Don's voice was still soft and thoughtful. "Leftovers..."


End file.
